


A wreath of laurel

by Kirianna_May



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Ancient Rome, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Poisoning, Slavery, dryad!Laurent, more or less?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21905257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirianna_May/pseuds/Kirianna_May
Summary: When Laurent, spirit of a laurel tree, is captured and gifted to the crown prince by his brother Kastor, he thinks death must be close, but as time goes by, he begins to consider that perhaps some humans are less cruel than others.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 163
Collections: Captive Prince Reverse Bang 2019





	A wreath of laurel

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the beautiful piece Arsmara created for the Reverse Bang, please go check it out here because it's amazing!

Humans were disgusting, wild, savage beasts.

They were dangerous and would do horrible things if they ever saw you.

Getting caught by one meant death in the best case scenario, horrible suffering and degradation in the worst.

Laurent knew all of this, had known for centuries, ever since he had first been old enough to slip out of his tree on unsteady, still green legs, and the older creatures of the woods had told him the tales.

He had had time to find out on his own, to see brothers and sisters be cruelly dragged away, to see ancient trees hacked down while the spirit inside screamed in agony.

Some thought that perhaps the humans could not hear them cry, but Laurent didn’t know, they seemed cruel enough to simply not care.

As Laurent walked in between a group of those terrifying creatures, memories came back to him in crude details, the tears, the terror in other dryads’ faces as they were dragged to the ground by the hulking, graceless figures of men.

The last glance his older brother had sent him before being killed.

Laurent steeled his expression, he would not let them see how scared he was.

They tugged at his restraints every time his steps faltered, taking him farther and farther away from his tree, all the way out of the woods.

Away from the trees every step was painful, but the group of humans who had captured him did not seem to care, pushing and pulling him when he slowed down.

Laurent had no way of knowing what would happen, none of the other dryads he had seen be taken away over his centuries, had ever made it back to the woods.

After what felt like an interminable walk, Laurent’s feet stepped on cold, polished stone, he had never felt anything like it before, a small shiver went over his body and he looked up.

Despite the terror freezing the blood in his veins, Laurent couldn’t help the surprise when he saw the imposing form of the palace rise in front of him.

He was pushed forward, past enormous doors, under high ceilings, walking along walls with large windows, looking out on the sea.

Laurent’s eyes opened wide, he had felt the power of the sea in the water of the mountain, and in the rain pouring down on him and on his leaves, but he had never actually seen it before. It was beautiful and terrifying, even with the sun sparkling over it.

Laurent thought that at the very least, he had seen something new before whatever fate awaited him at the hands of the humans.

The man pulling him stopped once they entered a new room, and the man behind him pushed Laurent kneeling to the ground, on hand at the back of his neck, making him look at the floor.

The white stone, lined with pale green veins, was polished enough that Laurent could almost make out his own reflection in it.

Mostly the pale yellow of his hair.

The golden chain linked at his neck trailed over the cold stone, it shone in the daylight.

He looked around as much as he could without raising his head, the room he was in was large, bathed in light coming in from the uncurtained windows, drapes of deep red adorning the few stairs leading up to a throne. 

At the bottom of the stairs a man was standing up, bigger than the others who had captured Laurent, his build was imposing and Laurent could not help the spike of fear that sent his heart racing.

The huge man was looking at him with open curiosity, and Laurent averted his gaze, shifting it up the stairs, in the direction of the throne where he could glimpse an older man sitting. He did not dare raise his head fully, so he did not have a clear view of his face.

“Father,” 

a deep voice came from the man standing at Laurent’s left side 

“this is a gift for my dear brother Damianos, his performance in the spring games has been astounding, a simple laurel crown would not have been enough.”

“You gift your brother a slave?” 

The man on the throne asked while his gaze traveled down to the kneeling form of the pale, bound man “we have plenty here at the palace”.

“Not simply a slave, father, this is a gift from the gods themselves, a spirit of the woods, I could not have caught him had the gods not willed it”

The room was quiet for a long moment, and Laurent dared to look once more at the man at the feet of the stairs, his hair was dark and messy, and his eyes fixed on Laurent with an intensity that the dryad could not read.

Damen was almost startled when the man, the creature, kneeling naked in front of him, raised his golden head to look at him.

Eyes as brightly blue as the morning sky gazed at him from under long, pale lashes, a face so finely shaped it would have suited one of the very best sculptures Damen had ever seen.

“Raise” 

Damen ordered and when Laurent hesitated the man at his right pulled harshly on the chain, the links sending a pure tinkling sound around the room as Laurent struggled to his feet, trying not to be choked by the collar at his neck.

Damen stepped forward, the creature was stunningly beautiful, his hair long and paler than gold, his skin so light Damen could see the greenish blue of veins running underneath. His body was smaller compared to Damen’s but the muscles still appeared defined, a perfect balance of soft and hard planes. 

To say that Damen was intrigued would have been too little, he had never seen anything like this, and the idea of owning such a creature pleased him. He took a few steps closer, wanting to inspect the spirit from up close, but he paused with his hand outstretched when the dryad gave a sharp hiss and recoiled back from him.

“Do not dare touch me, I am a son of the woods, if you dare defile me the wrath of the gods will crush you, you are only a man”

Damen looked at him for a long moment “I am a prince”

The creature sneered, a gaze as cold as ice directed at him 

“You are nothing to a god, you can do as you please with my body, but you will not be able to escape the consequences”

Damen let his hand fall back at his side, not exactly scared by the threat, but he could tell that the spirit in front of him was terrified, his clenched fists trembling with the effort of steeling himself, his naked chest rising and falling in a sequence of quick, shallow breathes.

“What is your name?”

“My name is of no consequence to you”

“I would like to greet my guest as it is costume to”

“I have been dragged here to be your plaything, you will not have the satisfaction of having me play along”

Damen sighed, taking one step back and watching the man’s shoulders relax almost imperceptibly at the distance.

Damen heard his father sigh and stand up 

“You bring a a present that fights back, my son”

“I know my brother is not a man easy to scare off”

The king nodded, dismissing them with a small gesture “Do as you wish with him Damianos”

Damen spoke to the guards “take him to a room, have him bathed and dressed… don’t take the chains off yet”

The creature his brother had gifted him was attractive, and Damen was looking forward to spending time with him, but at the same time he could not help but think that it was going to be troublesome.

Laurent walked slowly after the two guards guiding him through the corridors, his feet hurt, the marble cold and hard under them.

He was led a long way into the palace, down stone stairs and along corridors, into a spacious room with low vaulted ceilings, pools brimming with water and steam raising in lazy curls from them.

Humans with golden collars and bracelets washed him, the water was too hot for him to soak in, making his skin turn an angry pink, so they used big bellied jugs, dousing him with tepid water instead.

When they were done he was wrapped in a white sheet they referred to as a chiton.

Laurent was not ashamed of being naked, had never needed to cover his body in his whole life, not because of the cold nor because of modesty.

This garment felt foreign on his skin, dragging over his thighs every time he took a step. 

He kept quiet, eyes following the movements of people around him.

Soon enough he was moved again, pain spiking up his feet at every step, not even the soft carpeting in the room they led him to could do anything to help.

He wished to be back outside, to plant the soles of his feet into the ground and feel part of it once more. The wooden door banged shut as the two men left him alone. Laurent felt goose bumps rise on his arms as he looked at the dark wood, the room was full of death and he had no way of escaping.

He was awake for a long time when night came, sitting at the windowsill, fingers running over the thin metal that made it impossible to step outside.

Laurent looked up at the moon and the dark sky, his brothers and sisters in the wood would be sleeping inside their trees.

He could not even bring himself to look around the room he was locked inside, there was so much dead wood, polished and shining and silent.

He could feel the quiet pressing on his ears, it made him feel sick.

He wondered what would happen to him.

When the group of men had cornered and pushed him to the ground Laurent had thought he knew what was coming next.

He thought he would die the same death of his brother Auguste.

He was ready for it, but it did not come, he thought the man they called king would kill him then, but he was still alive.

This was more terrifying than knowing he was about to die, this waiting for it to happen, not knowing what the humans surrounding him intended to do to him first.

* * *

Damen was too curious to let the nymph alone much longer, he had never seen one before and hoped that his mood this morning would be better.

He dismissed the guard as he entered the room, and drew up short when he saw the naked figure sitting at the window.

“I thought I gave orders to put clothes on you”

“I have seen other slaves almost naked”

“You’re not exactly like other slaves”

The nymph looked away at that, and Damen took his time to let his eyes explore the exposed skin, its tone so fair it rivaled the pure white chiton Damen wore.

Damen had never seen anyone quite so perfectly balanced, much smaller than he was, his wrists and ankles were fine, fingers long and delicate, but his body was still mostly solid muscle. 

Shoulders tapered down into narrow hips, long lithe legs looked as ready to run as those of a deer. 

Pale blond hair fell over his shoulders, partly hiding the white column of his neck, rivulets of gold resting on his cheeks.

Damen’s fingers almost itched with the desire to touch, to feel how silky that hair would be, to find out how warm and soft the flesh of his waist would feel, to hear what kind of sounds he would be able to coax out of those pink lips.

Everything in the creature in front of him looked appealing, at the peak of youthful virility, forever beautiful and inviting, and Damen would have been a liar to say he did not wish for a taste of it.

Damen had moved without even realizing it, in the calm quiet of the room, he suddenly found his hand gently cupping the side of the man in front of him, drawing him a little closer.

The sharp gasp that parted those pink lips was all the warning he had before the nymph raised a hand to strike him.

There was strength behind the strike, but Damen grasped hard at his wrist, harder still when the other struggled in his grip, raising ice cold eyes to look at him, rage and fear mixing and making his breathing shallow.

“Why don’t you just kill me, you sick monster!”

The tone was accusing, and Damen’s hold relaxed a little, still trying to figure out the creature in front of him.

“Kill you? I have no intention of killing you”

“No..” The nymph went still, his eyes so cold Damen almost shivered “what you intend to do to me is worse than death…”

Damen recoiled at the words and let go of his wrist, putting a step in between them. 

Now that he was farther away he could see clearly the terrified tension in the creature’s body, the way his fingers held convulsively onto the iron grating of the window, enough to cut and draw blood.

What did he think Damen was about to do to him? 

With what cruelty did he expect him to carry out his advances? 

His partners had all come willingly to him, he had never forced himself on anybody, not even slaves, and he was not about to start now.

Damen walked away, going back to the door “I will send you a physician to take care of your hand, you need not be scared of him”

After that Laurent was left alone, trying to get his breathing back to normal. 

The touch of that man felt as if it had been branded into his skin with fire where he had touched. Laurent wished he could wash it away in the cold stream, or forget about everything inside the comfort of his tree.

But he was away from home, a prisoner and a slave, and if he was supposed to spend the rest of his life like this, he hoped it was to be a short one.

It would be, far away from his tree as he was. 

A different man had come to him shortly after, he had not spoken to Laurent and never lifted his gaze while he put bandages on his hand. 

Laurent stared at the white stripes of cloth, wondering if some of his brothers and sisters might have been saved with something like this.

The memory of the blood flooding out of Auguste’s body came back to him as an answer, Laurent doubted bandages would have helped.

His brother had died to protect him from humans and in the end it had been meaningless. 

It must have been written in his fate that he was to die at a human’s hand.

Laurent had been curious and foolish as a young dryad, shy around many of the others, he had spent half of his time running after August who did not seem to mind his constant questions, and the other half thinking about humans.

Laurent had seen one when he was only recently out of his tree, a human newborn, left in the woods in the hopes that the spirits would take care of it. The elders had let Laurent hold the baby when it cried, waiting for one of the trees to accept it as a spirit. 

After that Laurent had always been fascinated by those creatures. 

They seemed to grow old and die in a matter of days and, although it was forbidden, Laurent loved sitting high on his tree or behind a rock to spy on them.

He would only ever catch a glimpse of them walking though the wood before he ran away to a safer spot, heart hammering away in his chest.

Laurent had loved the thrill it gave him and he had been young and naive.

Naive enough to one day let one human boy approach him.

They had looked to be around the same age, although Laurent had a vague notion of the fact that humans tended to be much younger than they appeared.

The human boy had been just as curious as Laurent was, and Laurent could not help but think that the elders were wrong in forbidding dryads from going near humans, back then he could not imagine that they would all be cruel.

That had been a mistake on his part.

The human boy had grown into a man faster than Laurent could keep up with, and the games he had wanted to play had been more intimate than Laurent had wanted them to be.

Stopping him had become more and more difficult, until one day he had simply taken from Laurent anything he wanted.

Laurent could not tell the elders, but he told Auguste, who had come to check on him.

He had cried, and felt small and ashamed for letting it happen but Auguste had held him close, and promised to protect him if the man ever came back.

Laurent had believed him, because his brother was older and wiser and had never told him anything untrue.

Laurent still hated himself for being the reason Auguste died.

Humans had only ever caused him pain and now he was supposed to slowly rot away while they kept him prisoner.

* * *

The prince kept coming to his room, bringing food that he refused to touch.

“You know, the fruit comes from the palace’s gardens, you can eat it”

Laurent looked up despite himself, the prince was sitting far from him.

“There are gardens here?”

“Yes, my mother loved taking care of them”

Laurent let his forehead rest back on his knee, trying to imagine the comforting whispers of trees and grass around him.

The silence stretched for so long between them that Laurent began getting lost in his fantasy, almost deaf to the world around him.

Until the kind spoke again

“I can take you there if you wish to see them”

Laurent’s head shot up, wide eyes stared at Damen, an icy blue that startled him every time their gaze met.

“You would take me outside?”

Damen knew he took a moment too long to answer, distracted by the open expression of the creature in front of him.

“Yes, I don’t see why not, as long as you do not try to escape”

The dryad kept looking at him, an incredulous huff of laughter escaped him

“Try to escape? I am in chains and there are guards everywhere”

Damen frowned “I expect you to be able to trick a few guards into letting you go”

The dryad only looked back at him with a confused expression 

“Would I be here at all if I could do something like that? I am what you see, there is no hidden power in me”

“You are a spirit of the woods”

“Yes, and I am away from the woods” he said bitterly, his pretty mouth twisting into an unhappy line as he kept quiet.

At length Damen stood, extending his hand out “Come, I will take you to the gardens”

Laurent swatted the hand away, standing on his feet and ignoring the pain it caused him. If it meant going outside he could endure it, he could endure being led by the golden chain tied at his collar, he could endure anything.

He could feel the stares of the humans they walked by on their way to the inner parts of the palace, they lingered on his hair and fair skin, on the hem of the chiton he was wearing.

The prince had told him to wear it, nudity was something to be ashamed of apparently.

Laurent did not understand nor did he care, but he could keep the clothing on.

Part of the deep cold and dread he had been feeling ever since being captured melted away the instant his feet sunk into the short grass.

He let out a quiet sigh, feeling as if he could suddenly breathe again now that he was under the sun.

He noticed the prince coming closer a moment too late, and shuddered with ill masked terror when he felt him touch his neck.

Laurent recoiled away from the touch, stopping when the chain went taut, held fast in the human’s hand.

“Keep still, I am trying to unchain you”

“No, I am no dog, if you unchain me now, you unchain me for good”

The prince sighed, taking a step back

“I cannot do that”

Laurent turned sharply away from him, the soft skin of his neck reddening at the scrape against the collar, but was satisfied to see the chain slip away from the human’s grasp.

Laurent almost ran to one of the nearest trees, climbing it with ease, and settling in between ripening fruit and green leaves.

He let out a breath, feeling his shoulders shake briefly with a nervous excitement he was unfamiliar with.

Laurent closed his eyes tightly, willing himself to calm down, to feel free and safe here where he sat, sunlight dripping through the leafy branches and over his skin.

He could not slip inside this tree, since it was not his own, but he could still draw comfort from it, from the steady roots that he could feel growing underground, and the life he could feel flow though the trunk. The wind rustled leaves whispered to him in soothing tones, and the crushing weight in Laurent’s chest eased slightly, enough for him to breathe.

Damen watched as the beautiful creature tugged away from him, and ran to the trees, scaling one as if it were as natural as walking if not more, long golden hair streaming down his back, made almost white by the light of the sun pooling over it.

He watched him disappear into the tallest part of the tree, and then walked over, looking up to catch a glimpse of him.

The creature was there, looking peaceful with his eyes closed and forehead resting on the rough bark of the tree, body nestled on the branches, one white foot dangling delicately.

Damen stared, amazed that the gods had provided him with such a gift, it did not matter how contrary the creature seemed to be, he had never seen anything as beautiful.

Keeping him indoors in that chamber was obviously not a good idea, he had not looked this otherworldly ever since the day Kastor had brought him back to the palace.

“You are free to come here everyday if you wish so” he said, and saw the dryad open one eye to look at him, the pool of clear blue still cold as he regarded him “as long as you are accompanied by me or one of the guards”

Laurent simply turned to face the opposite way, that man was a constant reminder of his capture, just as much as the collar and chain.

This little freedom he was afforded was not enough, it was humiliating to be treated in such a way, as if he were something pretty and novel to look at.

It was not enough but it was all Laurent had, and he would take it.

* * *

Days passed, and the routine made them slightly more bearable. He was taken to the gardens in the morning, guards changing during the day in their task to look over him, and when the sun began to set the prince would come and bring him back to his rooms.

He could hear the key turn in the iron lock, burying him inside this tomb of stone and wood. 

Laurent did not enjoy the times when the prince sat down and talked to him. 

At him, because Laurent refused to have a conversation with the man keeping him as a slave. But he could survive the tales the man spun, about battles and dangerous enemies, about swords, armor and wars.

Laurent wished he had a sword. He would have been able to defend himself with that, maybe even to escape this place and run back to his home.

Running might have been nothing more than wishful thinking, considering the way the crippling pain in his feet had begun creeping up his calves.

It was easy to mask from the humans, they were clumsy creatures and if he moved with less grace than usual they had no way of noticing. 

“Are you in pain?” 

Asked the prince one late afternoon, looking up at where Laurent was perched on a high branch 

“Your presence here is the only pain I suffer”

The human had the daring to grin 

“You look stiff today”

Laurent turned away, long hair fluttering on his shoulder as he jumped down the tree and climbed up a taller one 

“I saw you stumble there, you’re not as good an actor as you think you are”

Laurent picked an overripe fruit dangling right in front of him and threw it hard in the direction of the voice.

A wide smile stretched his lips when he heard a splattering sound a muttered curse from below.

His mood soured again soon though, when he heard the human laugh heartily.

Laurent hated him, and hated him even more when the laughter made his chest thud and his mind provide him with a memory of the dimples on the dark cheeks of the human and the way his brown eyes sparkled with amusement. 

“Give me a sword, you won’t laugh so much then!” He shouted down angrily

“I doubt you know how to make use of one”

“Why don’t you teach me then? So I can kill you and be free” 

Laurent said it without expecting his own voice to tremble with the desperation he felt, and then could only go still and quiet for a long time when the answer came.

“If you best me in a sword fight I promise I will let you go”

Laurent slid down the tree, till he was sitting on one of the lowest branches, only a little above the prince’s head. The human could have grabbed him if he wanted to.

Laurent looked at him for a long time, for longer than he had in all the days he had spent here. He tried to understand what must be going on inside that head, what trap he must be planning for him, what painful punishment awaits if Laurent does not pleaseor amuse. Laurent could not read the man’s face, would have said he looked honest, had he not known better.

“You give me your word?” The creature asked coolly, an icy stare boring into Damen while he stood under the tree.

“Yes, I give you my word”

“Is it worth something?”

  
Damen frowned, he had never been asked such a question before 

“It is the word of the crown prince”

  
The man regarded him with unmasked contempt, nose curling up almost in disgust as he said 

“It is the word of a human”

“I have never gone back on my word”

The dryad looked straight into his eyes, long and hard enough that Damen began to feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny, but still unable to tear his gaze away.

At length he huffed out a breath and turned to look away from Damen, settling in a more relaxed pose on the branch where he was sitting.

Damen’s attention was drawn to the careless arrangement of his limbs, always uncaring of how the garments he wore rode up his thighs or slid down his shoulders.

“I do not care all that much whether or not you are lying, if I win I am free, if I lose and you kill me, I am free all the same”

“We do not have to battle to the death”

The spirit turned his head to look at him some more, an expression Damen could not read on that pretty face 

“I hate you, prince Damianos” 

he said in such a quiet tone Damen was taken aback by the intensity of the feeling it carried.

* * *

After that, the prince had humored Laurent’s request, providing a tutor for him so that he could learn the basics of how to use a sword.

Laurent sat often at the edge of the training arena, watching him practice and feeling cheated, because that human was a monster, taller and larger than most of the other men he trained with, nobody seemed to be good enough to be a challenge.

Laurent knew he had no hope of winning, not even if he had the time to train for years to come.

The very first time Laurent had walked into the arena the sword had been too heavy in his hand, and learning to move with the weight of the light armor he had been made to wear and the unavoidable pain in his feet and legs, had been hard enough.

He felt graceless and ridiculous, but he also felt as if he were at least doing something for himself.

He would put up a fight if this really were the way he was going to die.

It would be better than slowly wasting away.

Watching the prince train even on his own was sobering, it made Laurent feel powerless, the human was quick and powerful, every movement seemed purposeful, not a hint of hesitation and the sword in his hand seemed to be one with his arm.

Laurent knew the human watched him train as well, although not every day.

Those eyes trained on every one of his moves annoyed him, he almost felt mocked by the intensity with which the prince looked at him, knowing what little threat he could ever hope to pose.

Laurent knew he himself looked like an ungraceful fawn while trying to master correct positions and movements with the weight of a sword slowing him down.

The palms of his hands blistered and bled, he did not have enough energy to hasten the healing process, so he let what the prince called physicians, bind his hands in white gauze every day.

Damen watched the dryad train every time he could, it was fascinating, he looked so different dressed up in training leathers, less otherworldly and more human every time he stumbled or missed a hit. He refused to use a wooden sword, so he had to deal with the weight of an iron one.

His eyes shone with a willfulness that Damen could not help but admire, and he wondered how long it would take before he learned enough to be considered a dangerous opponent. Turning one more to look at him, sweat dripping down his face, long hair escaping the braid it was picked into, the white bandages on his hands turning red with blood, Damen decided that it would not be that long.

He could see in those icy eyes how much the creature hated and feared him, but Damen felt himself still drawn to him, no matter what. At times, when he saw him sitting on a tree branch, with sunlight streaming down his hair like water, Damen wished to keep him in the gardens forever, only his to watch. Something precious to keep sealed away.

Other times, when he stumbled against the hit of a sword or when his face contorted in pain for only an instant, Damen found in his heart a desire to help him, to give him what he wished for, even if that meant setting him free.

He knew he could not do that, not after being presented with him publicly in front of his father and not after Kastor telling them that the gods themselves gave him the dryad to bring as a gift.

How do you send back a gift from a god? How do you risk your reign’s future like that?

* * *

“Let me be outside this night” 

Laurent said when he saw the prince approach him in the gardens, dusk was falling and a light breeze was picking up, sending his hair onto his eyes. 

“I cannot let you out here unsupervised”

“I am no child”

“You might escape”

Laurent bit his lip “You know the walls are too high for me”

“I know you do not care about pain when you have a goal”

“Let me be outside, only this night… please”

“What is so special about tonight?”

Laurent hesitated

“The moon will be full”

“The moon has been full other times since you came here”

“This time it is different, the earth is readying herself for winter, my brothers and sisters will dance and sing and some of them will prepare to sleep through the cold”

Laurent could see the human think about it, and frowned when he sat down 

“I will stay here with you”

“What?”

“I said I will stay here in the gardens with you. Or we can go back inside as usual”

Laurent scoffed, looking away from Damen and climbing a little higher on the tree.

Damen kept looking up at the creature for a while, his figure was distracting in any kind of light, but the soft tones of the evening made his hair shine like polished silver.

“You are becoming good with the sword”

“I am as good as the children training after me”

“The children have been training for at least two years already”

“I am not as good as you yet”

“I have been training since I was a child”

“I do not have as much time as that”

Damen looked up again, confused 

“You have all the time in the world”

The silence was long, and the dryad did not look down at him as he answered “…yes, as much time as is given me”

“What do you mean?”

Another long pause before the man began climbing down, feet touching the grass with the softest sound 

“I do not mean anything… come, this tree is too short to see the moon rise”

Watching him move around the gardens at night seemed almost unreal, the moon shone full and bright and the way the man looked at her made Damen yearn for those eyes to be on him instead.

He looked peaceful for once, relaxed while the wind tangled his hair.

Damen could not resist sitting closer to him as the night went on, until they were close enough that their fingers might have brushed together if they moved.

Damen heard him hum softly under his breath, a melody unknown to him and probably unheard by any other human ear, and he simply had to ask once more.

“What is your name?”

The creature turned slowly to look at him and he had never looked less human than in that moment, too beautiful and too ethereal to be made of flesh and blood.

Damen was not really expecting to receive an answer, but then, after a pause so long he was risking getting lost inside those blue eyes, the dryad spoke again

“Laurent”

“Laurent? Is that your name?”

A simple nod

“Your name is beautiful” 

To be quite honest it was a sentence Damen had uttered before, to boys and girls he had pursued, but it felt more truthful now, as if the thought had simply escaped from his lips before he could stop it. 

He did not expect Laurent’s cheeks to flush a darker color and for him to avert his gaze. He looked even more lovely like that, but Damen kept still, he did not want to scare him away.

* * *

Laurent was tired by the time the night sky began lightening up at the horizon, he had danced and sung under the moonlight, just as he had for so many times before in his life. He imagined his brothers and sisters around him, and let the murmur of the plants and the out of view sea comfort him.

His legs hurt all the way up to his hips but he felt lighter than he had in months.

It had been a good night, despite having the prince there with him. Perhaps he would have felt more alone without him… at the very least the human prince looked at him, everybody else at the palace seemed scared to even meet his gaze.

He was laying down on the dewy grass, looking up at the thin clouds turning pink, the deep breathing not so distant from him, told him that the man had fallen asleep.

Laurent turned his head slightly, prince Damianos was pleasing to look at, he could admit that much, but it did not really make up for the fact that he was kept a prisoner in his father’s palace.

He did not look much like the man who had cornered him in the woods, and yet Laurent knew the two were brothers.

At times he was fool enough to almost forget that the prince himself was the reason why he was held captive, that he had been a present for him. And even more foolishly, even when he did remember, at times Laurent still struggled to blame him for it.

* * *

In the middle of the mild Akelion winter, Laurent knew that if he wanted to try his luck and duel the prince, it would have to be now. He was in no way ready, considering how he was only able to best the guards he sparred with, half of the time. But his time was running short, even simply standing on his feet was becoming short of excruciating. And dying in a duel seemed like a better option than being left to rot away inside a room. 

Perhaps Damianos would be kind enough to make it quick, he looked as if he had been born with a sword in his hand, and the way he smiled made Lurent’s chest ache.

* * *

The wind was blowing humid and strong from the dark sea, the night sky was pitch black with heavy clouds and Laurent could feel and smell the distant rain. He sat at the open window, waiting for it and hoping to catch some in his outstretched hands. The candle lay unlit by the bed, where the prince left it every evening, and Laurent still did not trust the flicker of fire, nor did he need it to see in the shadows.

The day had been unusual, Laurent had wanted to spar with Damianos, but the prince refused, preferring to sit and watch others train instead. Laurent could tell something was wrong, the tips of his fingers itched with the need to touch the prince’s skin, to find out what the matter was, but he had kept his distance. 

Still, he could not help but think about it, about the unnatural pallor in those cheeks and the forced smiles. He wished to be free to walk the palace in the night and go visit the prince, to see wether he was the only one awake while the wind made the sea roar.

When the sun came, Laurent’s hands and arms were still damp from the rain that had fallen, the sky a cloudy gray. Nobody came to bring him to the gardens or to the training arena that day, nor the day after. Laurent was alone till the early evening, when a guard unlocked his door and took the golden chain dangling from his neck.

“The prince has summoned you” 

The guard kept quiet after that, gaze averted from him as usual, and Laurent followed him in silence.

He stumbled slightly when they stopped in front of a set of dark wooden doors, feet numb and legs aching from the short walk.

The doors opened to the prince’s rooms, and Laurent was let inside, the doors closing behind him once more.

Prince Damianos sat up in a large bed, white pillows supporting his back, and Laurent shivered involuntarily, he had never seen a sick human, had never been physically ill himself, and the dead wood of the bed frame only made the scene seem more wrong.

“Laurent, will you come here?”

Hearing his name startled him a little, he was still surprised at himself for giving the human his name, but it was enough to make him walk forward, standing at the side of the bed.

“Why did you call me here?” He asked, looking closely at the man, noticing small things that were wrong with him, how his eyes seemed less focused, the ashen hue of his lips, the way he breathed.

“I missed our talks together, and I apologize for not sending anybody to take you outside of your room”

Laurent nodded “What has happened to you?”

“I must have taken cold, it is nothing but the physicians like to fuss”

Laurent only looked at him, unsure of how true that might be, but conceded when the prince handed him a pillow and asked him to sit, crossing his legs on the soft carpet at the side of the bed.

Talking with him was familiar by now, and Laurent could not deny how it eased some of his loneliness. 

Damen was glad for the presence of the dryad, it made being constricted in bed feel less daunting, and less pressing the worried words of the physicians who had visited him.

He could see in the way Laurent hesitated at times, or looked at him for a little too long, that he knew something was amiss, but Damen kept quiet about it.

He kept summoning him to his rooms every evening, as it became slowly clearer that this was something more than a seasonal illness.

Laurent could not lie to himself, he had thought it over for long hours while in the gardens, and he did not wish for the prince to die in such a way. Because it would not mean freedom for him, but only a deeper loneliness, and because he had come to cherish the human’s company.

He wondered wether or not he could help, if his powers were still strong enough.

* * *

The answer came to him soon enough, one night with a bright full moon illuminating the late winter sky. Laurent could hear the hurried steps in the hall, the hushed voices talking in urgent tones, and he knew that the prince must have worsened. Laurent had not been summoned at all for the past three days, Daminos’ silence was telling enough and the dryad could only wonder wether the man would have enough strength to ever talk to him again. 

He waited, listening to the sounds outside the wooden door of his cage coming and going, until one heavy set of footsteps stopped right in front of it. The knocking was abrupt and Laurentsprung up, the usual cold pain running from his feet. He had never before been summoned in the middle of the night.

The walk to the prince’s rooms was the same as usual, nothing was significantly different from mere days earlier, and yet Laurent could almost feel in his lungs how much the atmosphere had changed. The air itself seemed heavier, none of the servants they walked past spoke above a whisper and many of the lamps were not lit. Once he was ushered into the rooms, Laurent looked around, in the dim light of the oil lamp, he could see the propped up form of the prince. 

He looked completely different from the man Laurent had first seen when he had been dragged into the palace. 

Laurent hated it. He would be left to rot in that room once Damianos died, or paraded around like an animal. When he got close enough to the side of the bed, he saw the prince reach out to him, trying to touch his hand. 

Laurent recoiled at first, he had not let the human touch him yet. He saw the prince smile weakly at him, hand still outstretched 

“I cannot hurt you as I am now, and you must know I would not hurt you anyway”

Damen saw the twist of his pink lips relax, as they looked at each other, and was glad when the dryad took his offered hand. 

“I want to set you free, I do not care about angering the gods at this point”

“Will you set me free even if you were to recover?”

Damen found himself smiling, perhaps the medicine they gave him was to blame, or the way looking at Laurent made him feel. 

“I did not think you such an optimist, but yes, I am setting you free now, and I do not go back on my word”

Laurent sighed, placing his fingers on the prince’s wrist, he could feel the prickle of the poison in his blood, running through his veins, making him weak, killing him slowly. It must have come from a plant and there must have been a large quantity, for it to be so obvious to the touch. Perhaps he could heal him. He knew he would have been able to when he was free in the forest. 

Wether or not he could do it now was to be seen.

He concentrated on extracting the poison from the blood, truly feeling just how much the months of captivity had drained his strength.

“What are you doing?” Asked the prince, looking at his pinched brow

“Trying to help you, you idiot, you have been poisoned and you do not even know”

“Poisoned? By whom?”

“How would I know? I have been locked up, remember?”

“Can you really cure me?”

“Perhaps…”

Damen could only look at him as Laurent’s eyes closed, a slight glow coming to his cheeks, immaterial enough that it might have been a trick of the lamplight. 

He looked handsome, Damen hoped that whatever he was trying to do would work, but he also thought that at the very least he would have the privilege of Laurent’s being the last face he saw. It was the most beautiful face he had seen so far in life, and it belonged to the most intelligent person he had met so far. 

Laurent had been ignorant of many things that any human would have taken for granted, but his mind was quick as a whip, and so was his tongue. Damen had come to like it, being told things as they were right to his face. It was something not many others had ever dared do. It was a kind of open honesty that he had not thought he would ever find. Damen rose up a little further, letting his hand wrap around the dryad’s forearm, feeling the warmth of his fair skin.

Laurent snapped out of it with a start and a quiet gasp for air, dizzy enough that he half collapsed on the bed where Damianos was, head buried in his hands as he tired to get his breathing back under control.

“I do feel better, did it work?” The prince’s voice was steady and Laurent could feel his hand squeeze his arm slightly. It did not disturb him now. He shook his head, opening his eyes enough to look at him, at the way the pallor seemed to be receding away.

“No, I cannot take it all away, not as I am now”

Laurent felt so drawn to the warmth of the man sitting mere inches from him, life had been so cold ever since he was taken to the palace, and the last few days without Damianos had been colder still, and the well of energy deep inside his chest felt drained and hollow after trying to use even a fraction of his powers.

Damen could not help touching the golden hair that fell in limp strands over the man’s face, it felt soft as feathers on his fingers as he brushed it aside, fierce blue eyes stared at him, bruised looking shadows under them. 

“Can I help you in any way?” He asked, meaning it, willing to give him anything he would ask for in that moment.

He saw a muscle jump and clench in Laurent’s fine jaw, gaze hardening a fraction as he let the contact of fingers on his skin happen just under his ear.

“I need to go back to my tree, then I think I can help you”

“I will take you in the morning then”

“Do you not think the person who has been poisoning you might not approve of it?”

“Then we shall go now, I feel better than I have in days”

Laurent looked at him for a long time, finally pulling away from his hand, and Damen felt himself smile at him, his lips pulled by the light feeling in his chest.

“Only the guards will see us, you have nothing to worry about”

Laurent nodded slowly, standing up “We should go, perhaps we will not be seen at all”

* * *

Laurent had to admit, this was fun, he was having a difficult time trying not to smile as they climbed down the tall tree that stretched its branches all the way to one of the windows. His body always hurt a little less when he was outside, when he could feel the hard bark under his feet. 

Perhaps they were being too cautious, they could have simply walked out of the prince’s rooms and the guards would have allowed it, but Laurent did not know who was trying to kill the prince, he had not had any contact with other people at the castle. The prince seemed just as clueless, which surprised Laurent. Surely one would notice being hated enough to be killed.

The walk to the woods was long, and Laurent could not exactly run, even with the bubbling excited feeling in his chest as he got closer and closer to his home. He could feel a smile stretch on his lips as the air around him became familiar and the tips of trees he had known all his life appeared in the grey light of dusk.

He turned around to look at the prince once they came at the entrance of the woods, where the grass grew taller and a quiet kind of magic filled the air.

Damen was out of breath after an hike that he would usually have been able to do with no trouble at all, his is body protested the activity after such a long time spent in bed, but when Laurent turned to look at him, Damen saw him smile in such a happy, unguarded way, that any pain was forgotten. 

Fighting to keep himself upright was worth it in the face of Laurent’s excitement, in the way he looked back often to make sure Damen was still close by, in the new, unexpected twinkle that shone in his eyes and made him look younger and less wise, playful enough to run with through the green woods.

Damen could only wish that he’d live through this and that he would be worthy of the creature in front of him, enough to be allowed back into the woods often.

Laurent stopped and took a deep breath, this was home, the place he had been born, he could recognize each and every sound, from the bubbling of the nearby creek to the whisper of the wind though blades of grass. He could not stop smiling, his chest felt full enough to burst, and he grabbed Damen’s hand tight, pulling him forward 

“This is my wood, my tree is over there, by the water”

Damen laughed, Laurent’s cheeks were glowing faintly in the dim light of the upcoming dawn, he looked more beautiful than he ever had at the palace, as if stars were shining in his blue eyes. 

Damen looked on as the man let go of his hand a few steps away from a large laurel tree, its leaves a rich dark green. Laurent touched the bark of a thin branch, shoulders relaxing as if a weight had been taken away from him and in the time that took Damen to blink once, he was gone. A faint golden halo left in his place for a fleeting moment.

Laurent could not have resisted the pull of his tree for a moment longer, slipping inside it was like sinking in a warm water spring, all aches fading away, his whole body singing with joy as he was welcomed home and the energy of the whole wood flowed though his veins. He stayed in there till his breathing finally leveled, and his heart went back to beating together with the flow of his tree. 

All he felt was peace, and time did not exist anymore. When he pushed his head out of the rough bark he felt as if only a long moment had passed, but in front of his eyes was a scene he never would have expected.

Damianos lay on the ground, unmoving, bright red blood all over him, soaking his white chiton, soiling the green grass of his home, and a man towering over him. The man who had taken Laurent away in the first place, the man who had ordered chains put around his wrists and ankles, who had made his head bend with a golden collar at his neck.

He slipped fully out of his tree, feeling steady on his feet for the first time in almost a year, he could hear Kastor muttering under his breath 

“You were supposed to die quietly, everything was going so well… why would you even let that dryad go?”

He looked unhappy, the sword, still red with blood, was on the ground at his feet as he watched Damianos.

Laurent could still make out the faint raising and falling of the prince’s chest, the sight made his throat hurt and his eyes prick with tears.

He was silent, his feet not making a sound as he walked as close as he dared to the man who gave him his back. 

His objective was the sword on the ground, heavy looking and difficult to yield, he had been given a different kind of sword to practice with, but he reckoned he would be able to kill an unarmed man all the same. Just like Kastor had just done.

It was perhaps the mad beating of his heart, or the way in which his chest seemed to struggle with air every time his eyes went to the man on the ground, but something gave him away, and when he was no more than one step from the sword, Kastor turned on his heels and saw him. In the flash of a moment his hand was back around the hilt of the sword, slashing down at Laurent, who ducked and stepped away, furious at the lost opportunity. 

“You simply could not stay put, could you?” The human roared and Laurent thought fleetingly of hiding back into his tree, of forgetting the cruelty that surrounded him and reemerge once he was sure generations had passed. 

But Damianos was not far from him. He could feel, in the grass under his feet, the way his blood flowed from him. 

In the moment it took him to consider what to do, the sword had come down on him once more, grazing his shoulder as he stepped sideways, closer to Damianos. All he could do was buy time, had the prince been of a smaller stature Laurent could have carried him away, but Damianos was almost double the size of a common human and even dragging him would take a time they did not have.

Laurent might have been a decent match for Kastor had they both been in the arena, with light armor and swords, but as it was, Laurent knew it was only a matter of time before he was stricken down. 

What he could do was try and save Damianos. 

Going forward was difficult, seemingly every move the human took was to prevent him from reaching the figure on the ground. 

When another, deeper blow came, it was not much of a surprise, but it still took the breath away from Laurent, sword sinking into the soft flesh of his abdomen. 

He kneeled on the damp grass, not far from him was the man who had been willing to free him, and to keep the doors open to the world of humans. 

Laurent struggled to breathe while deep red blood bloomed from under his fingers, staining under his nails. But he was close enough now, close enough to crawl and touch Damianos’ hand. 

Enough to feel the weak beating of his heart when he let energy pour out of himself.

He grit his teeth and prayed, prayed to the gods all around him and to the fellow spirits of the woods, that they be merciful and help the man live. 

Laurent felt burning hot tears force their way out of his eyes, blurring his vision, rolling down his cheeks and onto the blades of grass.

After that all he could see was light around them, blinding him, his hand still holding tight to the prince’s, feeling relief at every heartbeat.

* * *

When he was once again able to open his eyes, he recognized the inside of his tree, the warmth and the intimacy of it, and something new, something that had not been there before, a rougher undertone, a space somehow smaller and larger at the same time.

Another spirit was there with him, it was unheard of, each dryad had their own tree, two souls could not fit into one. And yet they were both there, inside Laurent’s tree, he could feel the slow unfurling of Damen’s presence around him, cradling him close, easing all worries, reveling in the way they fit together easily. 

Laurent did not know how long it took, how long they spent in that form, exploring each other in the quiet of the slow flowing sap, days or years, perhaps more, time was an unimportant thing when you had another soul to learn. 

When they were ready, both satisfied in the knowledge they had of each other, of where one begun and the other ended, they emerged again. 

The air on Laurent’s cheeks felt cold and enticing after such a long time, he smiled when his hands touched the bark of the laurel tree, he could feel Damen in there, slowly figuring out how to push his head outside. 

He looked almost the same as he always had, but his skin was new, it had a slight green tint to it, Laurent knew it would fade with time.

He could tell, distantly, that time had passed, that perhaps Damianos would be upset at the loss of his former life, but right now all he could think of was the joy of knowing him so intimately, of touching his hand and feeling blood and sap flow through his veins.

Damen looked at him, and called his name in a soft way that made Laurent smile and flush, they would have eternity together.


End file.
